Chapter 12
Twelve
SINCLAIR brOTHERS
Henry and Sofia had just arrived, and Jaxson was playing sommelier with far more attention than wine-pouring strictly required, examining each bottle like it contained the secrets to the universe instead of just fermented grapes.
“Red or white?” he asked Henry, though his attention was elsewhere—specifically tracking the movement of a certain ethereal stepbrother who had been avoiding him all day with the dedication of a professional hide-and-seek champion.
“Red,” Henry replied, following Jaxson’s distracted gaze with knowing eyes. “Though I suspect you’d pour me motor oil if I asked for it right now. Your focus is… elsewhere.”
Jaxson forced his attention back to the wine. “Just making sure everyone’s taken care of.”
“Everyone?” Henry’s eyebrow arched meaningfully. “Or someone in particular?”
Before Jaxson could formulate a suitably cutting response, the guys from upstairs descended en masse, turning his carefully arranged dining room into cheerful chaos.
Tyler and Justin immediately commandeered the couch, while Ben, Chris, and Josh made a beeline for the food table like they hadn’t eaten in days.
A few minutes later, Lan appeared, with Bree linked to his arm, followed by Colt wearing that infuriating smirk of his.
The sight of Lan—cheeks flushed from whatever conversation had been happening upstairs, dark hair slightly tousled—made something primal stir in Jaxson’s chest. The boy was wearing that blue sweater that made his skin impossibly pale.
The honey-cherry blossom-lily scent that was uniquely Lan drifted across the room, making Jaxson’s fingers tighten around the wine bottle.
His pupils dilated instantly, his heartbeat accelerating as that sweet fragrance wrapped around him, bypassing his rational mind to trigger something deeper, more instinctual.
“Easy there,” Henry murmured, deftly rescuing the bottle before Jaxson could crack it. “That’s a thirty-dollar Merlot, not a stress ball.”
Jaxson busied himself with an unnecessarily thorough examination of wine labels, definitely not tracking Lan’s every movement across the room. Though judging by Sofia’s knowing smirk, he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought.
“You know,” she said, sidling up to him with the stealth of a panther, “there are less obvious ways to stare at someone than using wine bottles as binoculars.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jaxson replied, pouring her a glass. “I’m simply being a good host.”
“Mm-hmm,” Sofia hummed, accepting the wine. “And I’m simply going to have a friendly chat with your adorable stepbrother.” She patted his arm consolingly. “Try not to break any more bottles while I’m gone.”
When Sofia beelined for Lan with that predatory gleam in her eye, Jaxson’s internal alarm bells started ringing like a five-alarm fire.
She had an uncanny talent for cornering Lan and extracting information like some sort of social CIA agent.
A possessive heat spread through his chest, urging him to intervene, to keep others away from what was his.
But before he could move, Henry trapped him in conversation about—of course—Sara.
“What did you do to set her off?” Henry’s eyes danced with amusement as he sipped his wine. “She’s been ranting about you being ‘unprofessional’ for three hours straight. You, Mr. Perfect Real Estate Agent.”
Jaxson fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Let me guess—I was cold, late, and generally terrible? Perhaps I also kicked her puppy and stole candy from children while I was at it?”
“Among other colorful descriptions.” Henry chuckled. “She seems particularly fixated on your ‘inappropriate attachment’ to your family. So, what’s the real story? You’re about as unprofessional as Colt is spontaneous.”
“She wanted to add ‘bedroom’ to our professional relationship,” Jaxson said dryly, watching Lan from the corner of his eye. The boy was fidgeting under Sofia’s interrogation, a blush creeping up his neck. “I declined. Apparently, rejection isn’t something she handles gracefully.”
Henry’s laugh boomed across the room, drawing everyone’s attention—including Lan’s curious gaze.
Jaxson met those eyes for a heated moment before Lan quickly looked away, his blush deepening to a shade that would make roses jealous.
The brief eye contact sent a wave of warmth through Jaxson’s body, settling low in his stomach.
“And?” Henry prodded, following Jaxson’s line of sight with knowing eyes. “Not your type?”
“About as much as paperwork is Nico’s.”
“Most women aren’t your type lately,” Henry murmured, glancing meaningfully across the room. “Or should I say, they’re not quite the right height?”
Subtle, Henry. Real subtle. Though his friend wasn’t wrong—he’d known about Jaxson’s feelings for Lan for a while now. Whether those feelings were reciprocated… well, that was the million-dollar question keeping Jaxson up at night. Though after last night’s… activities, he had reason to hope.
“You could just tell her you’re already invested elsewhere,” Henry suggested quietly, his voice pitched for Jaxson’s ears alone. “Might save you some professional headaches.”
Jaxson shook his head, watching as Lan squirmed under Sofia’s interrogation across the room. “I told her I wasn’t interested. Didn’t expect her to go behind my back spreading lies.”
Henry chuckled, swirling his wine. “Well, she’s my problem now. Unless you’re worried about me stealing your client?”
“Be my guest,” Jaxson shrugged, his attention drawn once again to where Sofia had Lan cornered.
The boy’s face was getting redder by the second, and his fidgeting had increased to the point where he looked like he might vibrate right off the couch.
“Though I’m more concerned about what your wife is grilling my brother about. ”
Henry followed his gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. “Does he always blush that easily?”
“Always.” Jaxson couldn’t help the fond smile that crept onto his face.
And it’s adorable every single time. The memory of how that blush had spread down Lan’s neck, across his chest last night as Jaxson touched him…
No. Not the time to revisit that particular highlight reel, not when his body was already reacting to Lan’s presence across the room.
Henry started moving toward the group, and Jaxson followed, because apparently watching Lan squirm from afar wasn’t torturous enough—he needed a front-row seat.
The possessive part of him wanted to intervene, to shield Lan from Sofia’s relentless questioning, to claim his territory in a way that was both inappropriate and increasingly difficult to resist.
When Bree spotted them approaching, she bounced up from her seat with all the subtlety of a neon sign. “Here, Jaxson, take my spot!” she chirped, practically shoving him toward the space beside Lan.
Subtle as a sledgehammer, Bree.
Jaxson slid into the offered space, effectively trapping Lan between himself and the arm of the sofa.
The boy went rigid faster than Nico’s credit card at a game store sale, his entire body tensing like a bowstring.
That sweet scent of honey, cherry blossoms, and lilies intensified with his proximity, wrapping around Jaxson like an invisible embrace, making his head spin with desire and something deeper, more primal.
His skin grew warmer, his heart rate accelerating as his body responded to Lan’s nearness with an intensity that felt almost supernatural.
Pretending not to notice—a skill he’d perfected over the years—Jaxson casually draped his arm across the back of the sofa behind Lan, his fingers just close enough to brush against those silky strands of jet-black hair.
The contact, though minimal, sent electricity racing up his arm, a jolt of recognition that went bone-deep.
“I didn’t know you two were coming,” Lan managed, his voice slightly higher than usual, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor like it contained the secrets to the universe. “Jaxson said you were busy.”
Henry settled into the armchair across from them with the easy grace of someone who’d never worried about rent. “Sofia has a way of… rewriting schedules.”
“I prefer to call it ‘aggressive optimization,’” his wife retorted, flashing a smile that could sell timeshares to the homeless.
“But never mind my superior planning skills. Lan was just telling me about his university professor who apparently grades papers based on his mood swings rather than actual content.”
Jaxson’s protective instincts kicked into high gear, his arm shifting slightly closer to Lan’s shoulders. The urge to shield, to guard what was his, felt almost overwhelming. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Because it’s hardly breaking news,” Lan mumbled, still conducting an intense archaeological study of the floor pattern. “Unfair professors are as common as Nico’s gaming-induced tantrums.”
“Hey!” came the predictable protest from the floor. “What are you doing, Sofia? Interrogating Lan again? Did the CIA finally make your consultant position official, or are you still in the probationary period?”
Sofia’s perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up in mock offense. “Excuse you? Does asking about your brother’s well-being qualify as an interrogation now?”
“If you’re not interrogating him, then it must be favoritism.
” Nico grinned, rolling onto his back to look up at them upside down.
“Every time you visit, you monopolize Lan like he’s the last piece of cake at a birthday party.
Better watch out, Henry, or your wife might trade you in for a younger model. ”
Scott, materializing behind Nico like some sort of ninja, ruffled the younger man’s hair with enough force to make him yelp. “Stop being a nosy little shit.”
Nico’s face turned the color of Wei’s favorite hot sauce. “I’m not being nosy!”
Sofia reached over and pinched Nico’s already flaming cheek, her grin positively feline. “As usual, you’re about as subtle as a foghorn and twice as adorable. Isn’t that right, Scott?”